


stop one from breaking

by vannral



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angels, Ghosts, M/M, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro dies in Sokovia. Clint retires after that, but he still sees him, from the corner of his eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop one from breaking

Pietro dies. It’s blood,  _red-red-gaudy-against blue,_  and open, empty eyes, and  _he’s dead._ Clint retires;  _he can’t handle this,_  he’s haunted and tortured by nightmares, flashbacks,  _that stupid, goddamn phrase that he can’t bear anymore -_

He can’t tell Laura. Doesn’t tell. Won’t tell, even when he’s screaming at night, throat raw, voice terrified. Laura’s so worried. Laura, who is so wonderful and worried and who doesn’t deserve  _this kind of life._ Clint tries, he  _tries so hard_ to keep on living, but at this point, it’s more like existing and less like living. 

Then, he begins to see  _it._ Dim and fluttering like blue sky,  _of him,_ of white hair, cocky smirk. 

No, no,  _no, I can’t be seeing him, nope -_

_No._

Clint tries to ignore it. Close his eyes.  _I saw you die. You can’t -_

_“You didn’t see that coming?”  
_

_“Keep up, old man!”  
_

Echoes.  _No. I’m not - no more mind games, I refuse -_

It becomes worse. Sometimes, he  _swears_ he can see Pietro; a flash of him, leaning against a wall, scowling like he’s irritated with Clint, and Clint  _wants,_ so much, to ask, to tell, to say he’s  _sorry, something, anything -_

_Please...just...I’m so sorry. Forgive me._

Then, Wanda is the one, who comes to meet him. There’s quiet grace about her, despite her loss making everything else seem raw and ugly. 

She takes his hand; such a small thing, Jesus Christ. 

      “Do you see him?” Clint chokes.  _Please, tell me you do, I’m going crazy -_

Wanda’s gaze is warm, sad. “Do  _you_  see him?” she murmurs, compassionate and sad.  

     “Everywhere”, Clint gasps, hysteria strangling him. “I see him from the corner of my eye, and when I look again, he’s not there, and I  _know,_ okay, I  _know he’s not there,_ but it - “ 

Sometimes it feels like desperate kind of hope, and it crushes  _him._ Because it’s not fair that Clint is there and Pietro is  _not,_ when he  _should_ be.  

Wanda sighs shakily. “I see him, when I’m falling asleep”, she admits very quietly. But dreams...Clint thinks about those fading figures, and he hurts, he  _aches,_ because it seems so  _real._

_You didn’t see that coming?_

Stop it. Oh, please, please,  _stop it, stop -_

She presses a very light kiss on his cheek. “Please...please, it’s not your fault. It’s not. Try to get some sleep, please?” 

Clint does. He’s so exhausted, so torn to his very bones. His dreams are hollow, blood-soaked and  _bullets._ He startles awake, and in darkness, he sees  _him._

Pietro sits on the edge of his bed, and outside light cascades on him. He looks both very real and not. Clint can’t breathe. He looks as tired as Clint feels. 

     “K -  _kid?”_ Clint breathes. 

Pietro looks back at him, now a little annoyed. “What do you think you are doing?” he demands. Just like that. Clint gapes. 

     “What?” 

     “I asked you what you are doing, old man. You are not taking care of yourself and it is very annoying.” 

_Taking care - ?_

Clint is numb. Is he really seeing this?  _Him?_ Pietro looks just like before, cocky and irritated, white hair and so incredibly  _done._

     “You died”, he chokes out rather dumbly. “You - in Sokovia - “ 

     “I remember”, Pietro interrupts impatiently. “I was there. But that does not mean you did.” 

     “I wish I had”, Clint breathes. “I was  _ready,_ you - you were so fucking  _young,_ you didn’t deserve - “ 

Pietro smirks, but it looks fond. “Well, you did not either, but that is what happened. I do not regret saving your life. Yours, and that boy’s. Never.”

Clint thinks his chest is on the brink of collapsing. “I’m so sorry.” 

Pietro looks at him, eyes so very blue. “I am not”, he counters, and  _God,_ it’s almost  _cocky,_ so  _familiar._  

     “I wish I could change places. Fuck, I wish I - “ 

     “I am dead, and you are not. That’s how it is.” Pietro lifts his hand, and now, Clint sees it’s translucent, sort of pearl white. It settles on Clint’s jaw. It’s not cold. It’s barely  _there._  “I am sorry for causing you pain, though. It was  _never_ what I - “ He hesitates. “Just... wanted to save you.” 

     “You insane bastard”, Clint whispers, closing his eyes. “Throw yourself between the bullets and us. You  _idiot.”_

Pietro laughs, dry and low. “Oh, like you were much better, old man. Do not think I didn’t see you. I saw you turn. Shield that boy.” 

     “Better me than him.” 

Pietro gazes at him; affectionately, warmly. “And you wonder  _why_. I can’t believe you. You are a stubborn one, old man.” 

Clint’s laugh is weak. “Yeah. Been told that before.” He can’t believe they are talking, that this is really happening. 

That’s when Pietro moves; Clint flinches, but Pietro only rests his forehead against Clint’s, who is struggling to feel  _anything, something,_ and it  _hurts;_ hurts to think that he’s no longer part of this world. 

     “I wish you could be here”, Clint chokes out. “For Wanda. For - “  _Me._

Pietro opens his eye. “I am here, but - not. I do not know what is supposed to happen. If I could decide, I would stay here and guard. You and Wanda. Well, mostly you, because it is pretty inevitable that you decide to be stupid again.” 

Clint laughs, tad hysterically. “And what’re you gonna do about it? Glare at ‘em or somethin’?” 

     “Hmm, do not know.” Pietro looks like he’s entertaining the idea. “But I’d like it.” 

     “You’d get bored, don’t even try to tell me otherwise.” 

Pietro tilts his head, and Clint’s mouth goes dry. The way he  _looks_ at Clint, not quite  _fierce,_ but...with something like  _devotion._   “No. I do not think so”, Pietro replies  _so calmly,_ like it’s a solid  _truth._

Clint’s heart hammers even more violently. “Why?” 

Pietro grins. “You are not  _so_ stupid, you can figure it out, old man”, he says and straightens. His translucent, white,  _not-quite-there_ wings flutter behind him. 

     “You gonna - you gonna  _go?”_ Clint asks, slightly frantically, he doesn’t want Pietro to go,  _he doesn’t,_ and it hurts - 

     “Not far, do not worry. You need to get some sleep, right?” Pietro winks at him. A  _ghost of this young man, who saved him, them, winks at him._

     “Oh. Okay”, Clint says, blinking slowly. Then, he says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart: “Thank you.” 

     “Nice manners”, Pietro marvels, but he says it very fondly. “Sweet dreams.” 

Clint falls asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, if you’ve read my ficlets, you probably know that the idea of Angel!Pietro fascinates me a lot. Or Ghost!Pietro. (Because denial. Yeah.) So, I’m probably gonna MAYBE write more about Clint’s adventures with Angel!Pietro. We’ll see. :) Anyways, thank you for reading.  
> My tumblr: vannral.tumblr.com


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